


Love Can Tell A Million Stories

by cottonpadenthusiast



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Acting, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Crush, F/F, F/M, Family, Friendship, Light Angst, M/M, Musicals, Pining, Romance, Singing, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-05 05:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15163574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottonpadenthusiast/pseuds/cottonpadenthusiast
Summary: When Harry's godparents decide to put on the musical "Falsettos" in their local theatre, he is flung into a world of music, drama and dance. But when Draco Malfoy, a handsome blonde, joins the production, Harry quickly becomes obsessed with his sarcasm and looks. Will everything be alright in the end or will Harry's jealousy get the better of him?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by the musical "Falsettos", which is one of the most amazing musicals I have ever watched. I would highly recommend you watch it, although you don't need to have even heard of it to read this. If you have watched it, you might be able to spot a few subtle references I made. Finally, I would like to thank Andrew Rannells for always being such an inspiration in my life and being a perfect human being. Thanks for reading xx

“Sirius, how on earth did you think having rehearsals at seven o’clock _ in the morning  _ was a good idea?” Harry grumbled, chugging a flask of steaming hot coffee. Sirius had deemed it suitable to start rehearsals for “Falsettos”, the musical which his and Remus’ theatre company, “The Moonstar Productions” was putting on,  at the crack of dawn. The company had been created a few months prior, with Remus and Sirius quitting their teaching jobs to fulfil their passion for music and drama, and this was to be their first major performance. Falsettos centred around Marvin, a neurotic father, who has recently run off with his gay lover, Whizzer. Marvin wishes to maintain a “tight-knit family”, despite his ex-wife’s declining mental health and his son’s growing coldness towards him. Despite serious topics, Harry loved the dark humour and awkwardness that are portrayed throughout the musical. Harry, of course, had jumped at the idea of joining his godparents’ theatre company, with music and theatre a key influence on his childhood, and had immediately become a leading member of the small group. Harry would forever owe Sirius and Remus his life, for providing him with love and a home after his parents were killed in a fire and allowing him the ability to become completely entranced with musical theatre, and this seemed a way in which he could display his immense gratitude.

“Because music is most alive in the morning, my dear boy,” Sirius replied, a grin plastered on his face. Sirius’ long black hair was tied up in a loose bun and was carrying a box full of sheet music, his toned arms emphasised under his band-tee.

“It is too early in the morning for your pretentious shit, Sirius. If you ever utter those words again, I will divorce you.” Remus’ voice came from behind Harry. He turned to see the tawny-haired man lock the car, holding a bag of props and a metallic flask, wearing a grin mirroring Sirius’ own on his face. 

Sirius sniggered. “You love me too, my  _ lover, _ ” he teased, drawling the last word. Harry rolled his eyes.

Remus nudged past Harry and Sirius to the door to the rehearsal studio and set the bag on the ground. “You ready?” he whispered, his golden eyes locked on Sirius’.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Sirius had a small, secretive smile toying on his lips.

Remus unlocked the door, and slowly, he pushed it open. 

 

Harry had strolled on into the large, mirrored room, leaving a snogging Sirius and Remus in the doorway. The wooden floor was scattered with little dents from previous dance rehearsals and the morning light was streaming in through the large windows. The smell of oak and air fresheners filled Harry’s lungs, as he set his rucksack and coffee on a nearby table. The rehearsal studio would be rented for three months, rehearsing five days a week, until the first performance. The auditions, too, had been held here. Harry remembered the adrenaline and excitement that had been coursing through his body during his audition. Sirius, as the musical director, had been focused on singing capabilities, whereas Remus’ job as director had been to test the acting skills of those auditioning. Harry had known beforehand that a lead role was out of the question for him, due to his godfathers not wanting to seem biased, but was still ecstatic at being given the role of understudy for Marvin. Harry smiled to himself, pondering on the weeks to come. He knew that today was the beginning of a new chapter in his life. And he had never been more ready.

 

A few hours later, a small group was situated in the centre of the room. Harry was leaning against a table, the mumblings of greetings floating around him, when Ron wandered over to him. Harry had known Ron all of his life. Well, since they were eleven. They had been best friends for over ten years, and those years had been filled with laughter and memories and love. After leaving school, they had both went on to drama school, where they met Hermione, a young aspiring actress, and soon the duo had turned into a trio. The three were inseparable, even in casting it seemed, as both Ron and Hermione received roles in the new production, with Ron acting as Mendel, a nervous psychiatrist,  and Hermione as Trina, Marvin’s ex-wife. 

Ron heaved himself onto the table. “Everything will be alright, mate. Don’t look so worried.” 

Harry sighed. “I know… It’s just I really want this to go well. For them. You know?”

“I know,” Ron replied softly, placing a comforting hand on Harry’s back. Harry smiled at him, as they both turned to face Remus as he began to speak.

“Alright, everyone. I’m Remus Lupin, your director and I want to welcome you all to Moonstar Productions.” Sirius whooped loudly behind him, creating a ripple of laughter through the small crowd.

Remus continued. “As you know, we are going to be performing the musical, “Falsettos” in a few months, and I believe, looking at the talent displayed in the auditions, that this will be quite a show. I hope that this will be an enjoyable time for you all. However, we do require perfect attendance and dedication if we want this to live up to its full potential. Firstly, I would like -” Remus was interrupted as the front door slammed open, causing Harry to spin round.  _ What the bloody hell was that?  _ Harry’s mind stopped as a tall, slim man stood in the doorway. He had blonde hair so white, it shone like a spotlight around his head and his sharp features made it seem that he was carved by God himself. Harry swallowed. 

“Sorry about that. I think there was a bit of a draft. Am I late?” the blonde asked, his voice strong and confident. Harry’s eyes followed the lean figure as he closed the door and sauntered into the room, setting down his bag elegantly. Harry hated him already.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. And we were just getting started. As I was saying, I would like everyone to introduce themselves and who they are playing. Sirius, you can start,” Remus announced.

As each person introduced themselves, Harry smiled as Ron’s sister, Ginny, and a soft-voiced blonde girl, named Luna, shared that they were acting as the Lesbians From Next Door. He learnt that Jason, Marvin’s son, was to be played by a sweet young boy named Teddy, who instantly won the hearts of everyone in the room. However, Harry became more alert when it was the blonde’s turn to say his name.

“Hello, my name is Draco Malfoy and I will be playing Whizzer.”  _ Draco,  _ Harry thought.  _ Draco Malfoy. Kinda posh.  _ Draco flashed a blinding grin at the group and Harry felt his heart stutter. He needed to get a grip.

“I’m Jake and I have the role of Marvin. And yes, I do realise my character is an egotistical asshole and I hope I am nothing like him,” a tanned man, with brown shaved hair, said, his eyes lighting in a quiet confidence. A pang of jealousy snaked through Harry as Draco laughed at Jake’s joke and Harry realised that this guy would be Draco’s love interest. And would get to sing with him. And kiss him. Harry huffed. This was so unfair.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt Ron nudge his elbow. He looked up from where he had been boring holes into the floor to see everyone staring at him.  _ Oh God.  _ While he had been thinking of ways to injure Jake by “accident”, he had missed the fact that it was his turn to introduce himself. His cheeks flamed red.

“Emm… hey, I’m Harry and umm… I’m Marvin’s understudy,” he mumbled quickly. He felt Ron snigger beside him and stepped on the ginger’s foot in retaliation. Why did he have to be such an embarrassment? He couldn’t even say his name without messing it up. Harry glanced around to see Draco roll his eyes at him, turning to face a man who had introduced himself as Zayan, who was to be the Whizzer understudy. Harry’s stomach sunk. Maybe being the understudy wasn’t going to be as fun as Harry had originally thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry tore his eyes away as Jake snogged Draco, an uncomfortable bout of jealousy settling in his stomach. He had become almost accustomed to these feelings over the past few agonising days, his emotions switching between jealousy to annoyance to self-pity to hurt sporadically, but mainly, he was angry at himself for feeling such things. He needed to be professional and get over his unrequited crush before it lead on to something much worse and uncontrollable. Watching the two perform “The Thrill of First Love” was the most trying for Harry as it involved  _ a lot _ of kissing and  _ a lot _ of touching. And it wasn’t as if he could just face the other direction. It was his job to learn every movement, every note that Jake carried out, to ensure that Harry was able to step in if Jake fell ill. Harry’s eyes flicked up in time to see the performance end to see Draco grin at Jake in a way Harry only dreamed he would look at him.

“OK, EVERYONE! You have all worked hard so you can take a twenty-minute break. BUT ONLY TWENTY MINUTES!” Sirius boomed loudly, from his position a few metres away from Draco. Harry jumped to his feet and bounded into the kitchen. It was his turn for tea-duty today, meaning he had to make the whole cast hot drinks. Not that he minded. He found making tea quite relaxing. Well, that was until Draco’s voice drawled behind him.

“You better make my tea right this time, Potter,” Draco said. The ponce only drank chamomile tea and it  _ had _ to be served in the white mug or else the demons of hell would take over the world and cause pain and suffering to humankind. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Of course, Master Malfoy. Anything else you would desire?” He added in three spoonfuls of sugar into Luna’s tea, his back facing the blonde.

“Actually, I would love a foot massage. All that dancing really does tire one’s muscles.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “How horrendous! The level of pain you must endure daily to perfect your performance really does inspire everyone here.”

“Well, you wouldn’t know what pain is Potter since all you do is sit on your arse all day. I’m surprised you are actually capable of movement at this stage, and not in a hospital bed due to lack of exercise.”

Harry spun around, a retort ready on his lips, when Jake sauntered into the small kitchen and leaned against the counter beside Draco. Harry’s eyes narrowed automatically.

“What’s up, guys? It seems like World War Three is about to start in here,” Jake said, his dark skin alight under the warm lights. Harry had tried to hate him, but the guy was too likeable. He made Harry feel bad for despising him because he had never really done anything wrong, except to receive a better role than him. And kiss his crush. And be too good-looking. Ok, maybe Harry could hate him.

“Well, Harry here  _ refuses _ to make my tea properly. It’s as if he is physically unable to do so. Did his mother never teach him how to adequately stir milk and water? It’s almost impossible to mess tea up.”

Harry cast his eyes down, gripping the mug he was holding a little too hard as Jake chuckled behind him. It wasn’t Draco’s fault. Harry knew that. How could Draco know about his parents’ deaths? But it didn’t stop Harry’s heart giving a little twist, yearning for all those things he had missed. All the time he should have spent with his parents. All those memories and lessons he missed out on. Like his mother teaching him how to make tea.

“Don’t worry, Draco. I can appreciate the fine art of making chamomile tea,” Jake replied. Harry scorned down.  _ Oh, can you Jake?  _ Harry thought.  _ How impressive of you? Such a fine, established young gentleman you are. Your mother must have been a wonderful teacher.   _ Harry’s eyes flashed to Jake’s tea.  _ Unless… _

“Here you go, Jake.” Harry handed Jake his tea. “Would you be able to go to the shops and get more sugar? We are running low. Oh, and here’s a flask to put your tea in, so it doesn’t get cold. Bye. Thanks so much.”

“Emm ok… Sure no problem. Umm… Bye,” Jake said, his voice laced in confusion. He backed out of the room, his eyebrows still furrowed. Harry smiled slyly to himself. Finally, the git was gone. But now Harry was alone in a room with Draco. A very confined room. He spun around to the half-made mugs of tea.  _ I did not think this through _ , Harry thought, as he became consciously aware of every breath Draco took, every movement Draco made. His mind had gone totally blank. Harry began to panic, but as he was trying to choose between making a run for it or just hiding in the fridge, Draco spoke.

“So… how did you get into theatre, Potter?” Draco asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Harry turned to face Draco, passing the tea to the other man. “I suppose I’ve always loved music. Sirius and Remus have been a big influence on my life and their love of theatre passed onto me.” Harry smiled to himself. “I remember when I was four or five, I used to do little performances for them in the living room, with my teddies as co-stars, of course. I would sing and dance and I just felt so  _ happy.  _ Even then I was able to lose myself completely. Theatre has become almost a lifeboat in my life, something I have clung on to when everything else has gone to shit. I don’t know if I can ever thank Sirius and Remus enough for everything they have done for me.” Harry’s voice was thick with emotion. He coughed, regaining composure, as he felt himself blush. He could not start crying in front of Draco Malfoy. “What about you? How did you get into theatre?”

Harry watched as the blonde contemplated this for a moment, biting his lip. “Well, I wasn’t really able to fulfil my love for theatre until I was around sixteen. My father is a very… traditional man. He saw the theatre as some sort of gay circus and forbade me from ever going. As if that would stop me from being gayer than Elton John at a pride parade.” Harry sniggered as Draco grinned at him. “Anyway, I decided one day that I didn’t really care what my father thought anymore and my happiness was more important than any traditions he wanted me to live up to. I joined drama groups, watched musicals and came out to my parents. I’ve never looked back. But…” Draco stalled, and Harry waited patiently for him to continue. “I haven’t spoken to my father since. I still talk to Mother, but only ever on the phone. I miss her a lot. She was always more considerate than him.” Draco met Harry’s gaze and Harry could see the years of pain and hurt behind the dreary grey eyes. Harry stopped himself from reaching out and pulling the blonde into a tight embrace, as he vowed to never let anyone hurt Draco again. But Harry realised it wasn’t his place. Harry wasn’t the one who could protect and care for Draco, despite how much he wanted to. All he could over him was his sympathy and comfort.

“I’m sorry, Draco. Your father is an idiot. If he can’t accept his son’s happiness, then he never deserved to be a father in the first place. He never deserved you.” Draco gave Harry a small, secretive smile in response

“Life’s a sham, anyway Potter,” Draco said before sipping his tea.

Harry snorted. “Couldn’t agree more.”

Draco swallowed his drink, a surprised look on his face.“This tea isn’t actually half bad, Potter. You’ve outdone yourself today.” Harry laughed. God, Draco Malfoy really was something else.


	3. Chapter 3

“I Dreamed a Dream is so overplayed. Everyone is sick of it now,” Hermione rebuked. Harry had been listening to the Ron and Hermione fight over the Les Miserables song for the past twenty minutes and was beginning to question why he thought the arguing would stop when the couple first got together. The small studio was alive with quiet conversations and music playing in the background. Teddy was practising his solo, while Remus guided him through the movements, interrupting ever so often to offer advice and instructions. The trio was situated in the corner of the large room, sprawled across the wooden floor, careful to not bother rehearsals.

“I think it is slightly overplayed, but that doesn’t prevent it from being a classic. Come on, Hermione. It is pretty good,” Ginny interrupted, walking over to the three. Harry smiled at her as she sat down on the floor beside him. 

“See, Hermione! I told you everyone secretly likes it.” Ron said with glee, a winner’s grin on his face.

“I hate that song. It’s  _ so  _ basic. I expected better from you, Weasley.” Harry turned to see Draco strolling over to the group before plopping himself down opposite Harry. Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of the blonde, but he ignored the feeling.

“HA! Wrong again, Ron. Just accept I am always right,” Hermione teased. Ron’s retort died on his lips as everyone’s attention focused on Remus as he whistled loudly.

“Sorry, guys but can everyone just keep quiet while Teddy does his performance. And that means no arguing, Ron and Hermione,” Remus announced, glaring at the two as their faces turned a luminous shade of red. Remus chuckled at the sight, before nodding at Teddy.

 

The room sat entranced as Teddy performed “Another Miracle of Judaism” flawlessly, confidence oozing out of the brown-haired boy that was unusual for someone of his age. Harry felt a surge of pride for the young boy, whom he has only known a few weeks, but felt strange protectiveness over. Teddy’s voice was unwavering as he held the last note, resulting in a wave of applause from the small audience. A blush spread across Teddy’s cheeks, as Remus clapped him on the back, a grin on the older man’s face.

“God, don’t you wish you were that talented at his age?” Ginny stated, her eyes still on Teddy.

“Speak for yourself. I was that talented as soon as I came out of the womb,” Draco replied, swishing his non-existent hair from his face.

Harry grinned. “If by talented you mean so obnoxious that you couldn’t recognise how  _ untalented _ you were, then yes, I would firmly agree with you on that statement.” This earned him a smack to the head and a ripple of laughter from the rest of the group.

“Draco! Can we rehearse “The Games I Play”? I just need to make sure you don’t go slightly flat on that note again,” Sirius called from across the room.

Draco pulled himself up, stretching his arms above his head, giving Harry a clear view of his toned stomach as his shirt hitched up.  _ Oh, my God. _ Harry swallowed. “Coming now,” the blonde stated as he sauntered over to Sirius.

The mumblings of the group recommenced, but Harry continued to watch as Draco took his place by the piano and Sirius began playing. The afternoon sun shone through the paned windows, illuminating Draco’s features. He stood tall, his back straight and stance confident, and Harry drunk in everything about him, as if Harry was ill and Draco was his remedy. Harry was fixated.

“I don’t look for trouble, I do not accept blame,” Draco sang, his voice filling Harry in a way he never thought possible. Harry could no longer hear the voices of the others, his mind fully occupied with Draco and his voice that sounded like it came from heaven. It was during this song that Harry realised that his little crush on Draco had now turned into something more heavy, more important. He could not name his feelings, too strong for infatuation, too gentle for love, but Harry knew with certainty that all he wanted was Draco. Everything lead to Draco, all the moments and memories before this had been paving the way for him. 

“It’s tough with love, love’s tough to show.” Suddenly, the happiness Draco had filled Harry with, rushed out of him, leaving Harry empty and craving. He felt as if he had been drained of the goodness inside of him, only pain was left.   _ He will never feel the same. He will never feel the same,  _ Harry thought. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest and his breath caught in his throat. There was no hope for Harry. How could he compare to Jake, confident, funny, good-looking Jake? How could he ever be good enough for Draco? How could he ever be good enough for anyone? Harry swallowed painfully, allowing the sharp pain in his chest to fade away into a dull thud. 

“These are the only games I play,” Draco sang, holding the last note and sending shivers down Harry’s spine. Harry knew that he had to accept what he was to Draco. A friend. He would have to deal with his feelings before it was too late. But as Draco smiled across the room, his gaze meeting Harry’s own and causing Harry’s heart to lurch, Harry felt like it was already too late. 


	4. Chapter 4

Harry strolled out into warm evening, the light breeze twirling through his curls. The faint smell of exhaust fumes filled Harry’s lungs as he breathed deeply, his muscles aching from gruelling rehearsals. Harry stopped at the edge of the pavement, picking up the voices filtering through the wooden door. He was to stay at Ron’s flat over the weekend, along with Hermione, but was waiting for the two to leave so he could get a lift.

“Bye, Harry,” Luna’s soft voice came from behind Harry, before he twisted around to face her.

“Bye, Luna. I’ll see you on Monday. Have a great weekend.” Harry waved her off, as she crossed the road and turned the corner, out of sight. Ginny, Zayan and Jake left soon after, all wishing Harry well, before allowing Harry to return to his own thoughts. He couldn’t wait to spend some time with his friends that didn’t involve any singing or dancing. Harry loved musical theatre, but even he needed a break. In particular, he needed a break from Sirius and Remus and their constant PDA. “Falsettos” had seemed to bring the couple even closer together, which Harry was pleased about. What he wasn’t so pleased about was their now apparent desire to make out anytime they were alone. And to recite lines from “Falsettos” to each other like cheesy teenagers. There was little chance of Harry avoiding these little affection sessions when he lived in a house with them, and he had seen enough of their snogging than was good for his sanity. The weekend at Ron’s was almost a necessity for Harry.

“Hey, Harry. What are you waiting for?” Draco’s voice cut through Harry’s thoughts. Harry spun around to see Draco standing close behind him, an easy smile on his lips. Blonde hair was falling loosely into grey eyes, and Draco’s face was slightly red from the tiring rehearsals. He was wearing a white t-shirt and skin-tight Adidas bottoms, that accentuated certain features belonging to the blonde that made Harry lose his concentration every time he looked Draco’s way.

“Hey, Draco. I’m getting a lift with Ron. Hermione and I are staying at his house over the weekend,” Harry replied, as Draco moved to stand beside him.

“Oh, that sounds fun. Although I’d be careful not to walk in on Hermione and Ron doing… things. Those two are stuck to each other like stains are to my carpet.”

Harry smiled. “Did you just compare my best friends to stains on a carpet?”

“Yes, I did. It seems you are deaf as well as blind, Potter. Yet again, I wonder how you are able to function properly.”

“Hey! Piss off.” Harry smacked Draco lightly on the arm, as the two laughed, smiles plastered on both their faces.

After the laughter died out, they were left in a comfortable silence. Harry stole a glance to his left, admiring the handsome profile of his company. How could someone look that good from every angle?

Draco broke the silence. “You usually get a lift with Sirius and Remus, don’t you? Do they leave you off at your parents' house or do you have your own apartment?

Harry swallowed, casting his eyes on the pavement and his stomach tightening with uncertainty. He knew it was best to tell Draco the truth, but he hated the look of pity and sympathy he would inevitably receive. As soon as he told Draco, he would no longer be just Harry, but Harry-the-boy-whose-parents-died. The boy who can’t hear the words “mum” or “dad” without someone giving him a concerned glance. The boy who is defined by his parents' deaths, who is a reminder of his loss, not his life.

“Well, I actually live with Sirius and Remus. Have lived with for most of my life. My parents were killed in a fire when I was young, so Sirius and Remus took me in,” Harry said, his words spoken easily after having been recited so many times to many people. He faced Draco, trying to convey how he was not a helpless lamb. He did not need Draco’s pity. But instead of the sorrowful, half-smile, half-frown he was expecting, Draco’s face only displayed empathy, shock and something Harry couldn’t quite place.

Draco quickly smoothed over his features, the surprise wiped from his face. “Oh god, Harry. I’m sorry that you have had to live a life without them, Harry. I’m sure they were wonderful people,” Draco murmured, his voice heavy with sincerity.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that too. Thanks, Draco,” Harry replied, surprised at Draco’s reaction. 

“Wait… didn’t I make that joke about your mother the other day? Shit, I’m sorry Harry. I didn’t realise. I’m such an idiot.” Draco’s eyes were full of guilt, and his face displayed the worry he felt for hurting Harry.

Harry smiled sympathetically. “It’s fine, Malfoy. You couldn’t have known. Anyway, I just cried about it in the bathrooms after,” Harry said teasingly, enjoying Draco’s shocked face before the blonde realised he was joking.

“Don’t joke about that.”

“I can joke about whatever I want. You’re the one who made fun of my dead parents. You’re so mean, Draco. How could you?” Harry pretended to weep, a deep frown carved into the dark face.

Draco shoved him lightly, a smile on his face. “Stop, Harry,” he whined. “I apologised. I already feel guilty enough.” Harry sniggered at Draco’s pain, before facing towards the road.

After a few moments of silence, Draco spoke. “Do you ever miss them?” 

Harry considered this for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. “I do, I suppose. But it’s more the idea of them I miss. I never really got to know them, so I miss the ability to actually  _ know  _ my parents. Sometimes I just- I wonder if I would be different. If my parents had raised me, instead of Sirius and Remus, would I act differently? Would I have their habits? Their little likes and dislikes? You know?”

Draco’s eyes searched Harry’s own, a confused look displayed across the pale features. “Harry, you are perfect exactly the way you are. It does no good to dwell on how your life would have changed, because as awful and heartbreaking as it is, it won’t and it never will. You may not have your father’s habits or mother’s sayings, but it doesn’t make you any less valuable. You are you, Harry Potter. And I’m pretty sure everyone here likes you exactly as you are. Especially me.”

All that Harry could mutter in reply was a quiet, “Oh”. His emotions were churning and twisting inside him, mushing together and preventing him from understanding what he was truly feeling. Sorrow for his parents' deaths, content for the silencing of his insecurities and confusion for the meaning of Draco’s words all spun around inside him, yet despite this inner turmoil, he felt a peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. Harry had always secretly wondered if he perhaps he didn’t behave the way normal children did because he was not raised by his parents. He never felt like addressing his insecurities with Remus or Sirius, because he knew they would be hurt by his words, even if they said otherwise and he didn’t want to seem ungrateful for all they had given him. Yet he still wondered and worried and feared. Until he had heard Draco’s words. Draco had squashed his insecurities that had been haunting him for years within a couple of sentences.  _ God, you are really not making this crush easy for me, are you?  _ Harry thought.

“Thank you, Draco. I really appreciate it.” Harry reached for Draco’s hand, which were soft and smooth in his own. “I mean it. You’re…  amazing. Thank you.” Harry tried to display the depth of his gratitude, peering into Draco’s grey eyes, which reminded Harry of a cloudy day. 

A blush spread across the pale cheeks. “It’s ok Harry. You don’t need to thank me,” Draco mumbled, tripping over his words. Draco’s eyes fell down to the locked hands. _ Harry, you’re crush is showing,  _ he thought to himself, before swiftly pulling his hands away, embarrassment coursing through his body.   _ Wait, was Draco blushing?  _ Harry had little time to contemplate this peculiar reaction before Draco began walking away.

“I better go, Potter. I’ll see you on Monday. Remember to actually bring your script this time.”

“Bye, Draco. And  _ you _ should remember not to come in wearing Gucci shoes. It’s a rehearsal, not a fashion show,” Harry shouted, as Draco climbed into his car and drove off, flicking his middle finger to Harry in the process.

Harry was left standing on the edge of the pavement, the sun dipping on the horizon and stars beginning to peak through the sky. Harry was thinking about a certain Draco Malfoy when it hit him. Draco knew what to say to Harry, knew the complexities of Harry’s sorrow, because he too had lost his parents, just by different circumstance. Draco’s parents may not be dead, but they disowned him, leaving him to live a life without them, just like Harry’s parents, yet James and Lily Potter did not do it by choice. Harry mourned his parents, but he now mourned Draco’s loss too, a loss which he knew so deeply, like an old friend. 

“Harry, come on. We’re leaving now. It’s bloody freezing out here,” Ron spoke, strolling over to his battered Ford Anglia, with Hermione close behind.

As Harry sat in the car, his two best friends singing loudly in the front seats, the streets whizzing by, Harry smiled. He may have begun his life alone, but now he had his own family. A family consisting of a bisexual sarcastic nerd, a dramatic disowned son, a gangly ginger, and a bushy-haired feminist. And he wouldn’t change a thing for the world.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a lot of Wolftstar family-time and I loved writing it so enjoy!

“Pass the milk, Sirius,” Remus asked, stirring his coffee from his seat at the top of the wooden table. The smell of bacon and ground coffee filled the small kitchen, and the morning light filtered through the open windows. Harry yawned. It was a Sunday morning and two weeks until the first performance, meaning apprehension and excitement was building throughout the cast. Even carefree Luna was beginning to display nervousness, her usual calm demeanour now one of a slightly annoyed puppy.

“Here you go, love.” Sirius got the milk from the fridge, before handing it to Remus and kissing him lightly on the head. Sirius sat down opposite Harry, his long hair slightly ruffled and wearing Remus’ shirt.

“So, Harry. You nervous about the performance?”

“Nah, not really. I don’t really have much to do unless Jake gets sick, which is pretty unlikely.”

Remus frowned, his eyes full of guilt. “Sorry, Harry. We wanted to give you a role but… “

“It’s fine. Seriously, don’t worry about it. Anyway, it’s funny to watch everyone else freak out about lines while my main concern is ensuring Draco Malfoy has fluffy, white slippers in his dressing room so he doesn’t lose his shit at me.” Harry had taken on the role of organising everyone’s dressing rooms and helping around backstage. It meant Remus could focus on directing the actual performance rather than worrying about behind the scenes. A stage manager was hired and would be present in the run of to the debut, but in the meantime, Harry and Zayan shared responsibilities over dressing rooms and costumes.

“Oh, well that’s good,” Sirius replied.

Harry looked up from his food to see Sirius and Remus sharing A Look. Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“What? Why are you looking at each other like that?” Harry demanded.

“Oh, nothing.” Remus paused. “Draco’s a nice boy, isn’t he?”

“I suppose so, yeah. He’s a bit of a privileged prat sometimes, but other than that he’s nice.”

“Good-looking too,” Sirius added nonchalantly, an innocent look on his face.

“I’ve never really noticed,” Harry said slowly, searching both faces suspiciously.

“Such lovely blonde hair. And have you seen those long legs? He could be a model.”

“I know, Sirius. And what about his cheekbones? You could cut through metal with those.”

“Although, it’s weird that he is still  _ single. _ It’s a wonder no one has snatched up such a fine young man.” Harry groaned internally. Sirius and Remus couldn’t be more obvious if they tried.

Remus interjected. “I agree, Sirius. Such a pity… although maybe he has his eye on someone in particular.”

“I wonder who it is.” Sirius turned to face Harry. “Harry, would you know?” Harry choked on the bacon he was eating.  _ Bloody dickheads,  _ he thought, grabbing a glass of water and chugging it.

“No idea,” he eventually replied, coughing and eyes boring into his plate. Harry heard the two begin to snigger and when he looked up, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, they burst into howls of laughter. 

“God, Harry. You really have got it bad,” Remus said in between fits of laughter.

Sirius snorted. “No wonder he can’t remember any lines. He spends all of the rehearsal drooling at Draco.” 

Harry smiled in response, although it didn’t reach his eyes. The laughter died down and Harry felt their concerned glances on him as he played with the bacon on his plate.

Remus’ long fingers reached Harry’s hand and squeezed them lightly. “It was only a joke, dear. We didn’t mean any harm.”

Harry sighed. He had made Sirius and Remus feel guilty, despite the fact they had done nothing wrong except make a joke. Harry and his stupid crush and his stupid heart and his stupid feelings were the real joke.

“I know, I know. It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it. I better go and rehearse some lines.” Harry moved to grab his plate and leave when Remus’ grip on his hand tightened, locking the dark hands in pale ones.

“Wait, Harry. What’s wrong? And don’t say it’s nothing because we can clearly see it’s not.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, avoiding Sirius’ determined gaze. He really didn’t want to have this conversation, not yet anyway. It would make his feelings more real. They would no longer exist inside his head, where they were safe, controlled, but would become substantial. He felt by admitting his feelings, they would slip from Harry’s grasp. But what choice did he have? He would not lie to Sirius and Remus.

“Please, Harry,” Remus murmured, a sincere but encouraging expression on his face. Harry relented.

“I can’t- I just… I wish-ugh”

“Take your time, Harry. Breathe,” Sirius said from across the table.

“It’s just… in the beginning, it was just a crush. I thought Draco was good-looking and that was it. But then, as I started to get to know him, I didn’t just like him for his body or his face. I liked his laugh and his smirk and his sarcasm; things that definitely aren’t included in the word “crush”. After I started noticing these obvious things, I started to notice other things too. Like the way he licks his lips when he is nervous and how he never wears the same clothes twice in a week and the huge grin he gets on his face when he sees a dog. And I’m so scared, Remus. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. How am I meant to stop what I’m feeling? I think I might be- I think I’m falling in…” Harry stopped, unable to finish the sentence, as a single tear fell down his cheek. He looked down, biting his lip, trying to distract from the agonising pain in his chest. Harry closed his eyes, focusing on Remus’ finger rubbing circles into his palm, as he tried breathe deeply.

“Harry,” Sirius said softly. “Harry,” he said again, when Harry refused to meet his gaze. Harry lifted his head reluctantly, to see his two godfathers smiling sadly at him, both their eyes glazed over.

“Harry, I want you to listen to me carefully. It is not a failing to fall in love. It takes great bravery and a kind heart to give your love to someone. James was one of the bravest men I have ever known, and not because he was confident or stood up for his beliefs. He was brave because he was never afraid to admit his love for your mother, despite how many times she rejected him. Again and again, he offered his heart to her, often in a slightly… strange way.” Sirius smiled at the memories of James’ professions of love. “And he kept doing it because he knew he was privileged to fall in love with Lily. Instead of treating his love like a weight or a pain upon him, he treated it like a treasure. He cherished it, nurtured it, and eventually when Lily realised her feelings, this allowed her to see how true his love was. He wasn’t scared because he knew that whatever happened, he would still be in the comfort of knowing that he had loved your mother honestly and openly.” Sirius placed his hand atop Remus and Harry’s. “Never regret falling in love, Harry, for it is only the weak that do so. You may regret falling in love with a particular person or the time you fell in love, but regretting the feeling of love is what brings hatred and loneliness into your life. And anyway, if Draco can’t see what an amazing young man you are, then it is his loss. But something tells me his feelings may not be far from your own.” 

Harry stared at the two men in front of him. They loved each other unconditionally, had loved his parents like siblings and loved him like a son. Harry knew with a frightening certainty that Sirius was right. Those who love are stronger than those who don’t. 

Harry wrapped his arms around the two, pulling them into a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you,” he whispered, tears falling freely now. He heard Sirius sniffle against him as Remus began to laugh. Soon the whole family was giggling, their laughter filling the small kitchen, as cars beeped in the distance.

“You really are like your father, Harry,” Remus said as they all pulled apart.

“Yeah. All the Potters make fools of themselves when they fall in love,” Sirius teased.

“And trip over when they see their crush,” Remus added.

“And have no sense of style.”

“And think they are cooler than they actually are.”

“OK, OK. I get it. We are all messes,” Harry interjected, rolling his eyes.

Sirius ruffled Harry’s hair as he walked to the sink. “Yup, but the Potters are our messes.”

“Yes, they are,” Harry murmured softly, watching Remus rest his head on Sirius’ shoulder and wrap his arms around him.  _ Yes, they are. _


	6. Chapter 6

The bright stage lights blinded Harry as he stared out into the empty theatre. It was the final week leading up to the performance and rehearsals were now in full force, taking place in the local theatre. “The Dungeon Theatre” was modern and spacious, holding around eight hundred, and was to be the location of Moonstar Productions debut performance “Falsettos.” 

Harry blinked, his eyes gradually adjusting to the brightness. “Yup, the lights are definitely bright enough,” Harry shouted to the lighting technician. 

“Ok, thanks Harry,” they replied. Harry clambered off the stage, and traped over to where Remus was standing, the rest of the cast lounging on seats around him. Harry sat beside Hermione, smiling to her, before facing Remus.

“Ok, everyone. As you’ve probably noticed, unless you are as oblivious as Harry, this is our first rehearsal in the theatre.” Everyone giggled, giving Harry amused looks as he rolled his eyes. “Today we are going to do a dress rehearsal. Now that means quick changes, no playing with the props and complete concentration. Zayan, Harry and a few of the theatre workers are going to help with costume changes and looking after props. Any questions?”

Draco raised his hand.

“Yes, Draco?”

“Has my silk gown arrived yet?”

Remus groaned as the cast did a group eyeroll. “Yes, it has, Draco. Although it might have a slight crease in it. Would that personally offend you, or are you not as materialistic as you seem?” Harry answered, a smirk on his lips.

Draco glared at him. “Well excuse me for appreciating the finer things in life, Potter. At least I don’t wear black and navy together like an uncultured swine.”

“Actually, Malfoy-”

“Ok, guys enough. If you don’t stop you’ll be the ones who have to wash the costumes after the rehearsal. By hand. Everyone on stage now,” Remus interrupted, his expression one of complete exasperation. 

Harry glared at Draco before dragging himself backstage.  _ What a bloody, self-entitled prat?  _ Harry thought, definitely not thinking about how good Draco would look in a silk gown. And nothing else.  _ Stop. _

 

Harry stood alert, grabbing Draco’s costume. “March of the Falsettos” was coming to an end, and within a few seconds, Draco would need to change back into his original Whizzer costume. Harry glanced at Sirius who was smiling happily from the front row.  _ The performance must be going well, _ Harry thought. By the time he focused back on the stage, Draco was running towards him.

“Quick, Harry. My shirt.” Draco was panting heavily, as he removed his mask and hat. Harry reached for the hem of Draco’s shirt, pulling it above the blonde head. Harry’s heart stopped. _Fuck. He’s beautiful._ Draco’s pale chest had the shadows of abs and gleamed slightly with his sweat, reflecting the stage lights. Harry had to restrain himself from reaching out and touching the illuminated skin. He dragged his eyes from Draco’s chest to see Draco looking at him, in a way that sent shivers down Harry’s spine. Harry swallowed, gazing back into the grey eyes, reminding him of a summer thunderstorm. He felt Draco inch closer to him, sending Harry’s heart rate spiralling. _Did he just look at my lips?_ _WHY IS HE SO CLOSE TO ME?_ Harry’s mind was going crazy, his thoughts whizzing around, until Draco bit his lip and Harry’s mind went blank. Emerald eyes met grey ones once more and something incomprehensible to Harry passed between the two, before Draco looked away, pulling a white shirt on.

“Pass me those trousers, Potter,” Draco whispered. Harry shook himself out of his trance, before reaching for the jeans. Harry faced the other direction, his cheeks flushing as Draco changed. He had dealt with enough of Draco’s body for one day. How the hell was he meant to look at Draco’s body every night for a whole week? 

Harry glanced back to watch as Draco strode across the stage, clothed in his Whizzer costume. Harry was left wondering what the hell had just happened for the rest of the rehearsal, his heart still racing and his breathing uneven. Harry tried to convince himself it was all his imagination, he had only seen what he wanted, but the more he thought of the way Draco had stared at him, the more it seemed real. 

That night, Harry’s mind replayed the moment as he struggled to sleep. Draco not only haunted his days, but his nights and Harry didn’t know how much longer he could control himself. It was beginning to become impossible to even be within a metre radius of Draco. He needed to do something. And soon. As he eventually felt himself drift into subconsciousness, the sky now beginning to glow orange as the sun rose, Harry only wished that Draco was there beside him.


	7. Chapter 7

“I think we should go over “What More Can I Say”, if that’s alright with you, Harry?” Sirius asked, sitting at the piano. His leather jacket was draped across a nearby chair, while his jet black hair was tied in a ponytail, highlighting his striking features. The cast had left for break, leaving only Harry, Zayan and Sirius, who had decided to rehearse the understudies’ songs.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Harry replied, taking his place centre stage. Sirius had decided to mainly focus on the singing aspect of their performances, rather than the acting, as they had limited time to set up the stage. 

Sirius’ soulful tune began to play, as Harry focused on a spot at the back of the theatre, breathing in deeply. 

“It’s been hot, also very sweet,” Harry sang his voice filling the empty theatre. He smiled, knowing that this is where he belonged, where he felt most at home. Harry had always loved singing, but he had never believed he would be able to sing in a theatre. It didn’t matter that the seats were empty, and the only people there were Sirius, Zayan and the elderly cleaner at the back; it was still more than Harry had ever dreamed of achieving.

“But when he sparkles; the earth begins to sway,” Harry closed his eyes, as the image of Draco filled his mind. In this song, Marvin appreciates Whizzer and their relationship, thinking about his unconditional love for Whizzer. He had never loved or been loved in this manner before, and despite how confusing it is for Marvin, he had never been happier. It was Harry’s favourite song from the whole musical. Not only were the words poetic and beautiful, the music gentle and calming, it allowed Harry to dream that perhaps he could have such a relationship with Draco.

A door slammed to Harry’s right, resulting in a chorus of “shhhh”s and a mumbled apology from someone who sounded suspiciously like Ron. Harry remained focused, continuing to sing, while the rest of the cast trudged in quietly, taking their seats near the front. Harry had never sung in front of the whole cast before, resulting in a bolt of nerves to shoot up through his back, but he ignored it.

“We laugh, we fumble, we take it day by day; What more can I say?” Harry sang the last note, finally allowing himself to look at his small audience. He scanned the crowd, receiving a small smile from Ron, before his eyes locked on Draco. Draco was gawking at Harry, his eyes wide and mouth open, as he stood in the middle of the aisle, as if frozen in the spot. Self-consciousness snaked through Harry until he realised Draco was looking at him in  _ awe.  _ The crowd whooped and clapped, but Harry’s eyes remained focused on Draco’s, his heart squeezing in his chest, but not in pain or hurt. For the first time, Harry felt the spark of hope ignite inside of him, as Draco’s expression reflected that which Harry had felt for months. Draco’s face conveyed shock, amazement and admiration, yet underneath there was something that Harry recognised, something that both scared and thrilled Harry. Something that looked a little bit like love.

“Go, Harry,” Ginny roared, causing Harry to snap his eyes to her and breaking his gaze with Draco. Harry grinned at Ginny, before bowing overenthusiastically to the cheers of his friends. Even Jake whistled loudly, resulting in more roars from the crowd. When Harry eventually glanced back at Draco, the cheers beginning to die down, the blonde man was clapping, a small smile on the pale face. Harry’s heart swelled in his chest. 

“Well done, Harry. That was brilliant,” Sirius approved, a proud smile plastered across his face.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Thanks,” he replied, before jumping off the stage.

The cast began mumbling amongst each other, while Sirius started talking with Zayan. Harry took a free seat beside Draco, with Ron and Hermione in front, as Zayan began singing.

Ron twisted in his seat, facing Harry. “Well done, mate. I swear Hermione started crying you were that good.”

Hermione span round. “Ron, we all know you were the one crying. Your eyes are still watering for God’s sake,” she whispered sharply. It was true. Ron’s eyes were red and his face blotchy, a tissue still held in his hand. Harry sniggered, a burst of love for his two friends spreading across his chest.

“Well, he was really good,” Ron mumbled indignantly, before crossing his arms and turning around to face the stage. Hermione rolled her eyes, giving Harry a knowing smile, before doing the same. 

Harry listened as Zayan’s voice carried across the theatre, particularly aware of Draco’s arm touching his on the armrest. Electricity was buzzing through Harry’s skin, up his neck and down his chest, as he became conscious of each exact place Draco’s skin met his own.

“You were really amazing, Harry,” Draco whispered, leaning closer to Harry’s ear than was entirely necessary.

Harry blushed. “Thanks, Draco.”

“Harry, I mean it. You were… you were incredible. And don’t tell Jake this, but you are much better than him.” 

Harry faced Draco, trying to hide his glee at Draco’s words. Their faces were only inches apart, and Draco’s eyes shone in the darkness.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered softly. He felt light and heavy all at once, his feelings a mixture of happiness and want. Harry still felt Draco’s eyes on him as he turned to the stage and clapped as Zayan’s performance ended, the hairs on his neck standing under the heavy gaze. 

Harry’s arm tingled long after he moved from Draco, the buzz of electricity at Draco’s touch and stare changing Harry’s want into something more desperate and hungry; _ need. _


	8. Chapter 8

“Hi, Harry. Mind if I sit here?” Luna was standing above Harry, her long, dirty blonde hair in a bun, and clad in her 80s outfit, which was her costume for Cordelia. Harry shook himself from his thoughts.

“Oh, no. Not at all,” Harry replied, as Luna settled down on the seat beside him. They were seated at the back of the theatre, far away from the commotion of the stage. Harry had come here to think, his mind restless. It had been particularly bad these last few days, with Harry unable to concentrate and losing focus easily. This had resulted in a quite stern talking to from Remus, who had stalked over to him after Harry had gone to the loo, not realising they were in the middle of a rehearsal. Harry’s sudden disappearance meant both Draco and Hermione ran off stage to find both their costumes missing, while Ginny tripped over a cup of tea Harry had left sitting backstage. Remus was pretty angry, to say the least.

The cause of such loss in thought was, of course, Draco Malfoy. Harry no longer knew where he stood with the blonde, tiptoeing between the idea of friend and something more. However, he still did not know what this “something more” meant. Was Draco just being extra nice to him? Maybe Draco just thought of Harry as a good friend. Harry was at a loss.

“Are you excited for the show tomorrow? I can’t believe it’s our debut already.” Luna asked.

Harry barely heard her, glaring at Jake as he laughed with Draco. “Mm? Oh yeah. I can’t wait,” he replied distractedly.

“You like him, don’t you Harry?” Harry spun around to face her.  _ What? She can’t know. How does she know?  _

“What are you talking about, Luna?” 

“You like Draco. A lot from what I can see.”

Harry laughed, trying to cover the panic in his mind. “What? No way. That’s crazy. We are just… good friends,” Harry said, a fake smile on his face. 

Luna stared at him, before raising her eyebrow. Harry squirmed underneath her gaze.  _ Don’t crack, Harry. Don’t tell her. She’ll eventually go away. You can- _

“Ok, ok, Luna. I like him.” Harry relented.

“And?”

“And what?”

“What are you going to do about it?” Luna asked.

Harry frowned. “What do you mean? I’m not going to do anything. He doesn’t feel the same.”

“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same?”

“Jesus, you’re full of questions today,” Harry muttered, leaning his arms on his thighs, so he was bent over. He glanced back at Luna when she didn’t reply and was instead staring at Harry expectantly.

“Oh, umm. Well, I don’t know. He doesn’t really seem like he actually wants to be with me. Sometimes I wonder if he genuinely even likes me,” Harry replied.

“Oh, Harry. He is like that with everyone. It’s just the way he is.” Luna smiled at Harry.

“I didn’t know that,” Harry said softly. What was she trying to say?

“Of course you didn’t. You probably didn’t know that Draco has a crush on you either.” Harry’s heart stopped beating.

“ _ What? _ ” Harry whispered. His mind was blank for the first time in days and the world seemed to freeze, as Harry gaped at Luna.

“He likes you. He told me yesterday.” When Harry didn’t reply, completely dumbfounded, she continued. “He looked a bit upset, like you did, so I asked him if he was alright. He didn’t reply straight away so I began to talk about the fairy tree I have in my garden, but then he started telling me that he was very confused. He didn’t know what to do. You see, he likes you very much, but he thought you didn’t like him in the same way. You are both so oblivious. Anyway, he swore me to secrecy, but I decided to tell you since it was very unlikely that either of you would make the first move. I just thought I would give you a little nudge in the right direction,” Luna finished, a content smile on her face.

Harry’s mind was whizzing, his thoughts flying so fast that it was impossible for Harry to comprehend a single one.  _ Draco likes me. Draco likes  _ me. Harry’s heart sped up and slowed down all at once, his palms sweating and his breathing erratic. He glanced up to see Draco talking with Remus, his hands moving passionately as he spoke. Harry swallowed.

“Luna, are you sure? Does he really like me?” Harry asked, his heart almost breaking with hope.

Luna laughed. “Of course he does. Have you not noticed the way he stares at you? Or the way he always says you make his tea wrong, so he can spend more time with you in the kitchen? He likes you, Harry. Maybe even more than likes…” Harry ran a hand through his hair as butterflies fluttered through his stomach. What was he supposed to do? He could talk to Draco now, but if it went wrong, he would have to spend a whole awkward week in his company. Or he could ask him on a date on the last night of the show, but by then it might be too late.

“Ugh,” Harry groaned. “What should I do? I don’t even know what to say to him, Luna.”

Luna scrunched her nose, thinking of a solution. “I suppose you could talk to him tomorrow, after the show. It means you have time to think about what to say, and if it does go wrong, it won’t affect his performance.” Harry considered this. It seemed it was his best option.

“Thank you, Luna. For everything. This… you’re amazing,” Harry grabbed Luna’s hand and squeezed, before planting a small kiss on her cheek. 

The blonde girl smiled. “No problem, Harry. I’m always happy to help.” Harry grinned back.

“Harry, are you trying to make a move on my girlfriend?” Ginny’s voice came from behind, causing the pair to twist around, to watch as she bound over. Despite her words, Ginny had a cheeky smile on her face. Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, as he realised what she had said.

“Wait… are you two actually going out?” Harry asked, eyes switching between the two.

Ginny and Luna gaped at Harry as if they had seen a ghost, before glancing at each other and bursting into laughter.  _ What is going on?  _ Harry thought.

“Yes, Harry. We are going out. I literally asked Luna on a date after the third rehearsal, you knobhead,” Ginny finally answered after she had stopped laughing.

“Oh,” Harry responded. How did he always miss this stuff?

“I do worry about you, Harry,” Luna said, her voice full of concern. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Luna.” He smiled to himself as he remembered the earlier conversation. “More than fine, actually. I’m feeling pretty great.”

Harry glanced at the stage, watching as Draco strode behind the curtain. Harry was certain that soon he was going to be happier than he had been in a long time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have reached the end to this little series whoop whoop! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Lots of love xx

Harry stood in Ron’s dressing room, helping the other man get into costume. The backstage was alive with nerves and excitement, people scurrying around, searching for costumes and asking for makeup touch-ups. Harry too felt the anticipation, but not only due to the oncoming performance. His mind kept wandering to tonight, after the show, when he finally would be able to tell Draco his feelings for him. All day his mind had been whirring with possibilities, coming up with every situation, every outcome, until Harry couldn’t bear it and had come to Ron for a distraction.

“Nervous, Ron?” Harry asked, adjusting Ron’s mike.

“I’m shitting myself, mate. I honestly feel like I will poop in my pants.” 

Harry laughed at Ron’s sickly pale face. “You’re gonna be amazing. I know it. But it may slightly scar the audience if you do shit in front of them.” Ron smiled weakly in response.

Harry was about to comment on Ron’s dog, Padfoot, to distract him, when Remus came skidding into the room, his hair falling into the amber eyes and face displaying complete and utter panic.

“Oh my god, Harry. Thank fuck. We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Jake is sick. He’s been throwing up all afternoon. You need to play Marvin.”

Harry’s stomach dropped. “What?”

“You are playing Marvin. Come on, you need to change right now. Fuck. Hurry, hurry,” Remus urged, grabbing Harry by the wrist and dragging him by the wrist out of the room. Harry quickly shook himself from the shock and began sprinting along with Remus to another dressing room. He had little time to be nervous, before Sirius was attacking him with makeup brushes while he pulled on trousers.

“It’s going to be fine, Harry. You know all the lines and the actions. Remember to step to your left, not your right in “I Never Wanted to Love You”. And  _ do not  _ forget that there is a crescendo at the beginning of “Falsettoland”,” Remus ordered, talking more to himself than anyone else. Harry nodded numbly, trying to remember everything Remus was saying. As soon as he was changed into costume, Sirius clapped him on the back.

“You will be amazing, dear. We are so proud,” Sirius said sincerely, before kissing Harry lightly forehead.

“Yes, Harry. We both love you very much,” Remus added, coming out of his rant. He smiled at Harry. “Well...  break a leg!”

 

Harry was stood backstage, the mumblings of the crowd travelling through the curtain. He jiggled his hands, breathing out, as his nerves threatened to get the better of him. The debut performance of “Falsettos” was to begin within a matter of minutes, and Harry had never felt less prepared. He turned when he heard footsteps drawing near to see Draco walking towards him. The nerves calmed slightly, Draco’s presence surprisingly soothing Harry.

He smiled. “I’m guessing you’ve heard that I’m playing Marvin tonight. Jake’s sick,” he whispered when Draco was close enough. Harry’s heart fluttered when he realised that his new role would involve kissing Draco. A lot. Harry had never been sadistic, but he felt a slight bit of joy that Jake had ended up being ill.

“Yes. I’ve heard,” Draco said. His tone of voice made Harry’s chest squeeze. He seemed… disappointed. Not only that but angry.  _ I thought he felt the same,  _ Harry thought, confused and hurt.

“Are you annoyed, Draco?” Harry asked.

Draco turned his head away from Harry. “No,” he replied sourly. Harry felt like he had been punched in the gut.

“Draco… did I do something? You seem angry at me.”

“ _ No,  _ Potter,” Draco spat. Another punch to the gut.

Harry grabbed Draco’s arm. “Please, Draco,” he begged. He was desperate now. Maybe Draco had never liked him. Maybe this was all a big joke. Was everyone going to jump out and say “Surprise, Harry! We made you think someone _actually_ liked you”?

Draco dragged his eyes to Harry’s and Harry noticed the hurt and fear within them. “It’s just… Are you going out with Luna?”

Harry dropped Draco’s arm. “What? No. Why would you think that?”

“ONE MINUTE UNTIL CURTAINS OPEN!” a voice came from nearby.

Draco turned so his full body was facing Harry. “I saw you kiss her yesterday. At the back of the theatre,” Draco said slowly, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You seemed really… close.”

“THIRTY SECONDS”

“Oh. That was just a platonic kiss.  _ Totally  _ platonic. I have  _ no  _ feelings for Luna whatsoever. She’s dating Ginny anyway,” Harry explained, hoping Draco would understand, praying Draco would understand.

“TWENTY SECONDS”

Draco’s face relaxed with understanding, a small smile of happiness he tried to hide, displayed clearly. “Oh.”

“TEN SECONDS”

“Actually, I like someone else,” Harry whispered.

Draco swallowed, worry and hope flashing in his shining grey eyes. “Who?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“FIVE SECONDS”

Green eyes met grey ones and Harry could swear the world stopped around them. “You.” 

 

Light flooded onto the stage as the curtains opened and music filled the theatre. Harry wondered how everything could change so suddenly, as he stepped into the blinding light, Draco close behind. He had little time to gage Draco’s reaction before they began singing “Four Jews in a Room Bitching”, Ron and Teddy on the opposite end of the stage. Harry tried to focus on the words, but all he could think about was Draco. What if Draco was still angry? What if he made a huge mistake? But as Harry faced Draco, a fake smile on his face as he sang, Draco winked, and Harry’s mind stopped whirring and hope beamed brighter in his chest than it ever had before. 

 

The rest of the Act One went not only smoothly, but perfect. Harry had remembered all his words and even added his own twist onto his performance. When it had come to the kiss, Harry’s heart had stopped, but as soon as Draco’s lips met his, bolts of electricity shot through Harry and he buzzed with happiness. He had been slightly worried that they wouldn’t be able to break apart, too starved of each other to remember who they are and where they were, but Draco took control and pulled away, a knowing smile on his face.

Harry stood still as the curtains closed to the applause of the audience. Teddy stood beside him, and as soon as the lights went out, Harry hugged the smaller boy.

“You were brilliant, mate,” he said proudly, ruffling Teddy’s hair.

“Thanks, Harry,” Teddy replied, blushing and a proud smile on his face.

A tap on Harry’s shoulder caused him to spin around. Before he could even look at the person, lips came crashing against his own, strong arms winding around Harry’s waist. Harry melted into the kiss, as Draco raked a hand through the dark curls. Harry cupped Draco’s cheeks, kissing him the way he had always wanted, trying to convey his feelings through his lips. Draco pulled away too soon, panting as the two finally registered the cheers of their friends.

“I like you too, Harry James Potter,” Draco said smiling, finally replying to Harry’s earlier declaration while brushing Harry’s hair from his face. Harry’s eyes glazed, as complete happiness spread inside him. Why was he all of a sudden so emotional? He usually only cried at puppies and Queer Eye.

“Oh, don’t start crying. Save those tears for your performance. Anyway, you’re meant to be happy because you’re with me now,” Draco murmured wiping at Harry’s tears. Harry laughed.

“Harry Potter, if you dare mess up your makeup, I will personally sue you for wasting my time,” Sirius shouted. Harry turned to face him, to see he was leaning against Remus, huge smiles on both their faces. 

Harry grinned. “Sorry.”

“Ok, can we please stop with this couple PDA? I’m feeling more alone than ever,” Zayan announced, despite the small smile on his face.

Harry turned to Draco again. “We should probably get changed.”

“Yes, we should.”

Harry kissed Draco on the forehead. “I’ll race you,” he said, before running towards the dressing rooms.

“Hey, you got a head start,” Draco complained before Harry heard his footsteps close behind. Both were laughing hysterically against each other before they had even got into their dressing rooms, smiles wide and hearts full.

  
  


Harry stood, waiting for Draco at the back door. The show had ended perfectly. Harry had bowed to a standing ovation while holding Draco’s hand, which still caused his stomach to flip. Remus and Sirius had been over the moon, as displayed by the fact they were now making out in the car. Harry was trying to postpone interrupting them for as long as possible. That was a sight he  _ definitely _ didn’t want to see.

The heavy door creaked open and Draco walked out into the cold night. “Hi,” he said softly, a certain shyness in his voice.

Harry reached for the pale hand. “Hey.”

They walked in silence across the empty car park to Draco’s car, the stars shining brightly over them and their breathes visible in the night air. As they reached the car, Harry stopped under a street light.

“Draco, I need to tell you something.” Harry breathed deeply, gathering all the courage he had. “I don’t like you.” Draco’s face fell, pain displayed across his sharp features and Harry immediately regretted all his life decisions.

“I didn’t mean that. Oh god. Sorry. I meant to say that I’m-that I umm… I-I actually love you, Draco. Not like. Love” Harry blurted. When Draco didn’t reply, he continued. “It’s totally fine if you don’t feel the same. I don’t expect you to say it back or anything. I just thought you should know. Please don’t get scared off. I’m sorry. I’ve ruined-” Harry was cut off by Draco’s lips. Draco kissed him softly, cupping Harry’s face gently before pulling away.

“If you had given me time to reply, I would have been able to tell you that I love you too.” Draco smiled as Harry’s face broke into a grin. Harry felt like he would burst with happiness.

“Oh, sorry,” he replied sheepishly. Draco rolled his eyes and Harry wondered how someone could look so beautiful. 

The two gazed at each other, neither wanting to end the moment and leave the other’s company. Not when everything had just begun. But eventually, Draco spoke.

“I better go, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Draco said, before kissing Harry again. And again. And again.

By the time Harry dragged his lips from Draco’s neck, both were panting and Harry was pretty sure Sirius and Remus would be asleep in the car.

“Bye,” Harry whispered, watching as Draco’s silhouette walked to the car and drove away. 

Harry stood under the orange light of the street lamp alone, yet feeling more loved than ever before. Harry’s family had gained one more member, someone who Harry was pretty sure would be there for him for a long time. With these people he had accumulated throughout his life, Harry knew that he would always be loved and, in return, love them. Above all Harry had learned that love can tell a million stories, and his had only just begun. 


End file.
